“She tells everyone she just gave Dumbledore a pair of hand-knitted woolen socks,” Seamus said, catching up to share the gossip he had gathered from other houses.
“I don’t buy it,” Elaine said.
“Me neither,” Ron chimed in.
“She must have donated the whole Carrow family inheritance to Hogwarts.”
“Then she’d at least get an Award for Special Merit…
Wait, that doesn’t make sense.
Didn’t you say Anna Carrow’s ancestral branch was disowned?” Seamus asked curiously.
Elaine shot Seamus a look of deep disdain, pinching his right fingers together in an exaggerated Italian gesture.
“Even an Italian with only half British blood like me knows that breaking away from a brainwashed ‘pure-blood’ family and surviving to this day takes real capability.”
“From what I understand, that unmentionable Carrow married a Muggle botanist.
In just two years, they developed cultivation techniques way ahead of their time and opened the first breeding farm in Hogsmeade, specializing in herbs that were nearly impossible to cultivate back then—like Mandrakes.
The Mandrakes in the greenhouse are just degraded offspring of those original crops.
It’s a pity the generation before last lost the technique…”
*Why do you sound more regretful than the person actually involved?* Mason stared suspiciously at Elaine.
“If she’d donated her family inheritance to the school, Professor Sprout would’ve been the first one bouncing with joy.
Has anyone seen her smile lately?” Mason waved a hand, debunking yet another theory without ending the conversation.
“Maybe Dumbledore just happens to like the style of her knitting.”
After all, the three most popular topics among the younger students were:
How did Anna fool Dumbledore?
How is Anna planning to use the Great Hall?
Who is Cupid Mason going to deliver a love letter to next?
If they didn’t gossip about Anna, they would turn their gossip onto Mason.
“I’m more worried she’ll buy into Slytherin’s nonsense,” Ron said, his face twisting into a scowl.
“Imagine if she swapped the carpets in the Great Hall for Gryffindor banners, or covered the walls with portraits of their House Head—or Salazar Slytherin himself.
She *is* a Slytherin, after all.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed.
Whenever he ran into that greasy-haired Head of Slytherin, his scalp would go numb under the man’s stare.
That old bat was like a real vampire, ready to leap from the shadows and sink his teeth into Harry’s face.
If the Great Hall were hung with portraits of Snape, Harry wouldn’t eat for three days—he’d just pretend he was back at his aunt and uncle’s house.
“Instead of overthinking it, why not just ask her?” Mason’s eyes caught a flash of gold in the crowd.
Blonde Slytherins were rare, and that particular figure was short enough to be recognizable…
He dusted off his sleeves.
“I’ll be right back.”
Whenever the Mason quintet gathered, their collective presence was overwhelming and held a faint aura of exclusion.
She couldn’t fit in, so it was always Mason who left the group to find her.
Seeing Mason head straight for Anna Carrow, Hermione raised an eyebrow and took a prime seat to watch the spectacle.
As the two main figures converged, countless eyes gathered on them.
“Good afternoon, Mason,” Anna Carrow said with a smile.
What mage wouldn’t appreciate a frontline tank who could shield them?
“Do you have a love letter for me?”
*Goodness, her smile is so sweet—* The hearts of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins alike melted in unison.
“Even if someone actually dared to submit a request like that, I wouldn’t deliver it,” Mason said, feeling a mysterious karmic pressure.
Facing Anna’s sweet smile, he stated his purpose: “My roommates want to know why Dumbledore—cough—found the woolen socks you gave him so precious?”
“I happened to want to knit a pair of socks for my grandmother, using the pattern she taught me when I was little.
When I saw the commission, I remembered it!”
Anna yanked on his robes, pulling him toward the window, and pointed to the sky outside before continuing patiently,
“The weather’s been terribly cold lately.
Maybe Professor Dumbledore just needed a warm pair of socks, and the ones I knitted fit better?”
“I still don’t get it…” Mason was certain Anna wasn’t lying; the sincerity in her eyes couldn’t be faked—even though at least seven people before him had asked the same question and gotten taught a lesson for it.
“How did Dumbledore react when he received the socks?
…Sorry, am I being too nosey?” Mason scratched his shoulder, embarrassed that he had accidentally voiced his thought.
“You’re actually the first to ask that.
Now that you mention it, his reaction *was* a bit strange,” Anna mused, tapping her chin as if remembering something.
“Really?”
Mason had been dragged into a corner by Anna.
The eavesdropping young wizards were hesitant to approach due to the pair’s formidable reputations ([Reputation lost: -20]), leaving only the clever Miss Beaver sitting nearby, pretending to revise while stealing glances.
“However, the free Q&A session is over, Mr.
Cupid.
What comes next isn’t something to be spoken of lightly~”
That familiar tone—Mason’s brat radar went off immediately.
Mason thumped his chest at once and shouted, “Need help?
Who do you want to send a love letter to?
Leave it to me!”
“Pfft—” Hermione spat out a mouthful of tea.
“…”
“Help me deal with those noise generators yelling about ‘teaching Gryffindor a lesson,’ and I’ll give you that memory.”
“If you really want to know the truth behind it, that is.”
Anna’s tone held a hint of amusement.
When she thought no one was watching, she didn’t bother playing the good girl.
He never relied on fair play to beat stronger opponents anyway.
“That’s right.
It’s a family magic that allows sharing memories with others without a Pensieve.
Don’t ask what a Pensieve is—it’s an extremely, extremely, extremely expensive and rare alchemy item.”
Mason got a few names of Slytherin upperclassmen from Anna, the highest being a sixth-year.
With his current spellbook, even a surprise attack would be tough to execute.
It seemed he’d have to find a way to unlock and transcribe some new spells.
This morning’s Charms class (still on the Levitation Charm) and Transfiguration class unlocked 2.8 spells for Mason in total.
The first two spells were:
[Life Drain Beam]: Crimson School spell.
Continuously unleashes a death ray that deals damage to the hit target and restores an equal amount of health.
Mana Cost: 24/sec, increases by 5 per level.
[Wall of Fire]: Blazing School spell.
The caster chooses a target path, generating a continuous wall of fire along it that blocks arrows and projectiles, dealing damage to creatures attempting to cross it.
Mana Cost: 30/sec, increases by 20 per level.
Transfiguration contributed the remaining 0.8 to his spell progress.
Although not fully unlocked yet, Mason could already recognize that familiar icon.
[Entangling Roots].
*When did you get here?
Ah, yes, I love you too.*
The undisputed king of 1v1 crowd control spells.
With an ambush, it could turn any single target into a stationary dummy, allowing him to dump high-damage spells at will.
Aside from a long cast time, it had no major drawbacks.
(Too bad it fell from grace after the game update—couldn’t target most bosses anymore.)
Conveniently, Nature School spells only required a sprouted potato as the school’s catalyst.
After performing the Waning Moon Starlight Enchantment Ritual, Mason could begin unlocking and transcribing [Entangling Roots].
Night fell.
Master Mason, exhausted from a long day, was just about to drift off to sleep when he noticed the shadow on the opposite bed sitting up suspiciously.
Draping a cloak that had been set beside the bed over his shoulders, the figure tiptoed out.
Elaine?
Out-of-bounds wandering at night is against school rules…
*Pah, pah, pah*, infected by Miss Beaver.
Where was he going?